


Parenting Tips

by OddlyKia



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Adoption, Angst, Bullying, Child!Reader - Freeform, Each chapter can be read by itself but also connect loosely to future chapters, Family, Fluff, Gen, Kidnapping, McHanzo - Freeform, More characters to come, More tags to be added, Multi, One Shot Collection, Other, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-11-13 11:08:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11183856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddlyKia/pseuds/OddlyKia
Summary: Just some helpful life tips from your adoptive parents Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada.





	1. Age 6: Principal's Office

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse and Hanzo, your adoptive fathers, get a call from your school and you're in big trouble for getting into a fight with a fellow classmate. But why?

_Tip: You probably shouldn't teach your child how to throw a proper punch._

The day starts out quite normal, like any other, really. 

Jesse and Hanzo both wake up in the early morning to help you get ready for the school day, making you breakfast and double checking over completed homework, before ushering you off to the bus and then, after a quick kiss, each setting off to complete the day's chores. Your otou-san, Hanzo, contently goes and collects the dirty clothes from the week, neatly setting everything to wash and then moving on to the dishes used that morning. While your papa, Jesse, heads out back to work on the small yard; his goal for the day is to finally remove that dying tree by the far end of the fence that surrounds the house. 

The shrill ring of the rarely needed home phone breaks the silence and Hanzo's concentration. He sets down the laundry basket full of clean clothes before heading into the next room and answering the phone, a small look of confusion crossing over his face at the caller ID. 

"Hello?" he questions. 

"Hi, am I speaking to the parent of [ Name ]?" a deep older voice asks, a clear tone of annoyance lacing each word. 

"Yes, their father. Is everything okay?" 

"Well, you're child is in trouble for punching a fellow student during recess and I'd like to discuss this issue with you and any other parent present." 

Several emotions swirl in Hanzo's chest. The most prominent being disappointment. You've never done something like this before and have never acted in such a way. And then anger. Why would you do such a thing to your classmate? He and Jesse certainly didn't raise you that way! 

"Yes, of course," Hanzo sighs, "We'll be there soon."

He hangs up the phone and steps out onto the back porch, waving his hands in the air to catch his husband's attention. The cowboy is quick to notice and jog his way over, slightly sweaty and heated from the unobstructed sun. 

"Is everythin' okay, darlin'?"

"The school called-"

Jesse quirks a brow.

"-and our child is in trouble for hitting another student."

Hanzo and Jesse, who first changed into a cleaner set of clothes, rush down to your school. And upon entering the main office and then being usher into the principal's office, they are greeted to the sight of you sulking in a chair and the principal sitting behind his desk with his arms crossed, sporting a very sour expression.

"Ah! Thank you, you two, for coming down so quickly," he says. "As I said on the phone, your child is in serious trouble for punching another student while playing at recess. They gave the poor boy a black eye and then threatened to do it again if he talked."

"That's not true!" you screech. "He was picking on the new girl again and saying mean things! He always-"

"There is no yelling in my office, [ Name ]," the principal cuts you off without hesitation. "You'll be suspended for two weeks and, depending on what the young boy's parents want, possibly expelled." 

"Whoa now!" Your papa steps in, tipping his hat back with a small flick. "Let's hear both sides of the story. Everyone's got a reason for what they did. Now, sweet pea, tell us what happened."

The principal looks like he wants to object but thankfully stays silent anyways. 

"Tanner is a bully who sits next to me in class. He always picks on me, says really mean things about you and otou-san. He says having two dads isn't right." You're angrier then your fathers have ever seen and the news of you having a bully is quite shocking to them, you've never said anything about it before, at least not to them. "He also tries to trip me and pull my hair all the time. I just ignore him, like the teacher told me to, cause he's stupid but then he started to pick on the new girl from India!"

"Little boys often pick on the people they like. Their friends. Their maybe crushes," the principal tries to disgustingly excuse the actions of the little brat. "He doesn't mean it. And that certainly doesn't excuse your behavior."

You open your mouth to begin a brand new temper tantrum but Hanzo beats you to it.

"Why haven't we heard about this? About this bully?"

"And why ain't you doin' anythin' about it?" 

"Please, sir-sirs," the old man sitting behind the desk looks from one dad to the other. "He's just a boy. He means nothing by it, just trying to get arise out of people. Besides, he didn't hit anyone but your child did."

"He means everything by it or else he wouldn't have said it," Hanzo snaps. His calm demeanor breaking away faster than ever before, easily falling into a protective parent mindset. The dragon is angry. "My child was wrong to hit someone but it changes when they were defending themselves and someone else from such harassment, both verbal and physical."

"Now I wouldn't quite say physical."

"What do ya call trippin' and hair pullin'?" There's a very small strained moment of silence. "Of course, nah, he just harassed and threatened the kids around him." The venomous sarcasm that drips from Jesse with each word almost makes you flinch. "Why ain't that little brat in 'ere too?"

You finally get to shout out what you've been dying to say, having continuously been talked over. "He said that he'd beat me up because I have two dads! And that his older brothers would help! And then he pulled the new girl's hair so hard that she started to cry!"

Both men step closer to the wooden desk.

"Did my child ever come to you or any other faculty about this bullying?" Hanzo asks eerily calm. "You seem very well informed and eager to write this off so fast, so tell me."

"They...did, more than once, but their teacher agreed that it was just harmless annoyance between kids, nothing that would warrant a call to any parents. We resolved each issue."

You hate your principal and you glare harshly at him with your little arms crossed. Your parents look livid and ready to yell.

"I see." People don't play around when they say that you inherited Hanzo's glare. "I understand what kind of school you are running here. My child will not be coming back anytime soon and I will certainly be contacting the proper people."

"Sir! There's no need for that! We can-"

"Zip it!" Jesse cuts in. "We obviously 'ave to because you're okay with havin' a homophobic little brat, just like ya, terrorizin' everyone."

The cowboy is quick to pick you up and storm out of the office with his archer husband not too far behind him. Your otou-san retrieves your school bag and all remaining items while your papa brings you to the car and buckles you into your seat. The ride home is silent as each man fumes and grumbles over what had just happened. And so, you decide to break the quiet atmosphere.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I did hit him and I think I kicked him too." 

Your papa tries hard not to smile at that.

Hanzo shifts in his seat to face you as best as he can; it's an awkward position but he doesn't care as long as he can see your eyes. In Japanese he says, "hitting is very wrong and I'm still upset that your papa taught you how to, but you did the right thing by standing up for that girl. I'm proud that you held your head high and withstood that boy's  
torment without violence for so long. But I'm also proud that you protect that girl. It was the right thing to do." 

"Am I going to get in trouble? Are you going to ground me?" you think for a second. "Are you going to cancel my birthday party!?" 

Papa looks at you through the rear view mirror, "Aw, honeybun, we couldn't do somethin' like that to ya. Well, at least, I couldn't."

Hanzo playfully slaps Jesse's arm. "Of course we won't. But hitting in school is still wrong so, just for tonight, bedtime will be seven instead of eight."

A small impressed whistle comes from Jesse's lips. This is by far your most lenient punishment to date, but it's for a very good reason.

It was Jesse's turn to speak in a different language, Spanish. "Who wants to go out for lunch? Maybe get some ice cream afterwards?"

You cheer and Hanzo nods in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are welcomed!!


	2. Age 9: Saturday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend is meant for sleeping in late but there are some friends that just won't leave you be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idea thanks to cascadedEquilibrium!!

_Tip: Pets can be a great thing, like a cat or dog. But maybe not a dragon._

The spirit dragon that protects your family and fights along side your father could be considered your friends.

They've watched over you since coming home to Hanzo and Jesse from day one, both beasts sneaking into your room and draping themselves all across your crib and playpen day after day. Oddly enough though, neither of your parents knew or currently know about the dragon's protection, both thinking that your giggles and chatter as you grow up are from the tv they let you watch and the toys you play with. And although these spirits are capable of killing and tearing apart any enemy, they are still fully able to be soft with you.

The sun manages to filter in through the closed blinds but you just roll over away from it; with it being Saturday, you get to sleep in until noon.

The dragons have a different opinion, though. 

They're playfully today.

While one slithers under your comforter like a snake and teasingly nips at your toes, the other dragon jumps on your pillow and bats its tail across your face. Scrunching up your nose, you brush it away and curl your legs up, trying to go back to sleep again. The blue fairly large sized pests step up their game, nipping just a tiny bit harder and tapping your head with more urgency.

You bolt up and snap in Japanese, "Stop it, you two! I want to sleep today!"

They both crawl to the end of your small bed and blink at you for a moment, sticking their tongues out like lizards. And then they attack! Slithering around your body, delicately nipping, licking, and tickling you to tears. You squeal with laughter before jumping out of the bed to stop the assault. 

One of the dragons very loosely wraps itself around your small neck and shoulders as you pick the other one up and let a good portion of its body hang down, almost dragging against the floor. They may be able to shrink down in size but they can't get _that_ small. 

With much attitude, you exit your bedroom and storm down the hall to your parent's room. You knock three times and when no one says anything after a moment, you burst in with the spirit beasts and come to stand at the side of the bed.

"What's wrong, my child?" is groggily asked as your father opens his eyes. Hanzo is nothing short of surprised to wake up and see his only child casually holding his lethal battle companions. "How-"

"They're bothering me! I just want to sleep but they keep tickling me," you whine, somehow climbing up with the monsters in your arms and plopping down in the middle of the large bed. "They're nipping at my feet."

Your papa yawns loudly and sits up with everyone else. Mumbling out, "What's goin' on now, sugar?" He mirrors his husband's expression upon seeing the dragons as well. "Hanzo, darlin', why are they...? Are you doin' that?"

Hanzo shakes his head. "No, it is not me. I've never seen them act so docile before, not even for me."

"How long...have they been bugging ya, sweetie? And I don't mean just this mornin',"

You shrug. "Always. I remember they use to knock over my spelling blocks and make me cry."

"That long?!"

"I don't know, maybe a little before then." The dragon in your lap wiggles away to its original master but the other one continuous to lay around your shoulders. "They've always been there!"

"So, when ya told us that the dragons ate ya science project a few years ago, ya weren't kidding?" Jesse feels bad about that now; you got your tv privileges taken away for a week because of them. 

At Hanzo's request, the beasts on the bed disappear, or well, one of them does anyways; the other one continues to lay draped around you and snuggle its head into your right shoulder. You quickly reach up and start to harshly scratch at the skin around the little blue head. 

"Are you okay?" your otou-san asks. 

You nonchalantly answer, "yeah, I guess. My shoulder has been itching for a while and sometimes it tingles really bad, but I'm okay."

"Does it? Hm."

A strong thought forms in Hanzo's head. And at first, he's confused; you're not blood related to him and what's happening to you should only be happening to someone from his bloodline.

But then another thought washes over him. You are a Shimada, regardless of what the world thinks and this proves it, much more so than some simple pieces of paper. Soon, no doubt, you will be getting a dragon of your own. And from the coloring of your skin, most likely pink or red. 

Hanzo remembers being a child and having light blue irritation all along his arm when he got his dragons; Genji had the same problem a year or so after with his back turning green. It actually was quite funny.

"What'cha' thinkin', babe?" 

Both men watch in humor as you struggle with the dragon, trying so very hard to pull the beast from around you. But its claw's dig into your nightshirt and pull the fabric with it every time you attempt to tug the mystical animal off. 

"I think, my beloved child, you will be either gaining a new friend, or a new annoyance quite soon."

You groan and flop back on the bed. Your dads can't help but laugh at your reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are welcomed!!


	3. Age 5: Bedtime Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of kids are scared of the boogeyman, but not you. He's your friend and sometimes he reads you bedtime stories.

_Tip: Bedtime isn't always easy. Try reading a story or singing a song to lull your child to sleep._

"Alright, kiddo! Time for bed." 

"No! I'm not tired!" You pout and cross your little arms. As the cowboy tries to pick you up, you swat him. "Papa, no!"

"Hey, now," McCree warns. 

Hanzo can't help the chuckle that escapes and scoops you up from the couch in his arms. "Come now, little one. You need sleep to grow and the earlier you go to bed, the faster tomorrow will come."

"No! No sleep!" you continue on, though, and attempt to wiggle free from the archer's grasp.

But with you being so young and small, he has no issue holding on and brings you to your room; your papa follows close after him with your toys and coloring books in hand. 

"You're mean!" you shout and flail your arms. 

"I think with that attitude, it's a good thin' that ya butt is turnin' in for the night."

They tuck you into your small bed after organizing your toys away and then each take a turn to kiss your forehead. You pout and stick your bottom lip out as they say their good nights. Your tired parents flick the lights off and softly shut the door behind them, leaving you alone to grumble in the dim light of your nightlight. 

"Hmph!" Your slap your comforter in anger and just sit there in your bed for a moment. But, then a thought runs through your little head. 

_If you ever want a friend, just turn off all the lights and wait_

First, you have to wait for the hall light to be turned off and for your dads to go to sleep; however, it actually takes quite awhile for them to finally turn in. But once they do, you excitedly jump out of your bed and rush over to the wall.

Next, you rip out the little colored light from the wall and then clumsily crawl back to your bed in the pitch blackness. You trip over the loose ends of your night clothes and lightly bump your head against the bed frame because it's so dark, but you still happily climb your way back up onto the sheets and gets yourself comfortable. 

Lastly, you sit and wait for a bit longer, just long enough for your eyes to adjust so that you can make out faint shapes and outlines of the things in your room. 

And finally, just as you're starting to think he won't show, thick black smoke cascades like spilt water into your room from under your bed. You stand on your bed and hold your arms out with a big smile as a large familiar figure materializes from the darkness. 

The white owl mask peers down at you for a curious moment before swiftly picking you up and cradling you in their massive arms, surprisingly careful of his long metal claws against your pj covered legs.

You happily snuggle a hug into the cold thick armor of the man's chest; he is your friend after all and every friend deserves a hug. 

"Hi!"

"Well, hello there. Have you been behaving for your parents?" a harsh monstrous voice asks. 

You smile and nod.

"Hmmm." There's a pause. "Is that the truth?" The masked person stares you down hard, very hard, like he's searching your soul and thoughts for any answers.

But you just keep the smile and nod confidently once more. 

The man's shoulders then shake slightly as he chuckles proudly. "You're getting better at lying. Good job, kiddo." 

"I missed you, boogey. We were gone for so long. Did you miss me?" 

Reaper never told you his really name or his code name, calling himself the boogeyman upon your first meeting. It's easier for people to write off a five year old talking about meeting the boogeyman, than hearing your child explain how Reaper visits them at night. You've never seen his face either but, somehow, you still consider this beast a dear friend.

"Of course I did," he rasps out. "You're my friend."

That small statement makes your entire face light up in delight. 

The old part of reaper, the Gabriel Reyes part, would've kissed the side of your head and danced around the room with you, enjoying the title of godfather, or grandfather, or uncle, or whatever Jesse would've made him. But, remember, he's not that man anymore; that mad died a long time ago.

But then why can't he leave you and never come back?

"Can we play together?" you innocently ask.

He shakes his head. "Not tonight. You're parents have something nice planned for breakfast in the morning. You need sleep."

"Aw." You puff up your cheeks and then stick your tongue out at him. "How do you know that?" 

"I know everything, didn't you know that?" he laughs. "And stick that tongue out again, and you might lose it." He makes pinching motions with his sharp claws as a joke.

You pretend gasp. Wrote brekaing out in a fit of giggles. "Well, will you read me a story then, boogey?"

At that, the man softly places you back down onto your bed and then floats over to your bookshelf full of your favorite fairytales and books. He picks out an old worn book from the back; a secret one purposely hidden away so that you'd have to know it's there to actually find it.

It's a children's book in Spanish, full of stories and myths from the very country. The ghost of a man had brought it for you soon after meeting and it's by far your favorite; your only gift from him and it must absolutely be kept a secret from your dads. He made you pinky promise not to tell.

You wiggle under your covers and he comes back over to tuck you in snugly before taking a seat on the edge, the book in one hand. Once you're comfortable, he cracks open the cover and begins to read one of the more darker myths towards the back of the book. His deep and raspy voice expertly reads line after line as you slowly start to drift off. 

You try to fight the heaviness of your eyelids but it eventually gets to be too much. You drift off to sleep and as soon as you do, Gabriel closes the book and silently returns it to its hiding place.

Carefully, he pats the top of your head, saying, "goodnight" before dissolving into smoke and flying away out through your window. 

////

At the breakfast table the next morning, while you're eating with your parents, Hanzo asks, "how did you sleep last night, dear?"

You shrug your shoulders as you stuff another large bite of your waffles into your small mouth. "Good! The boogeyman visited again and read me a story!" 

"Please don't eat with your mouth full. And ah, yes, the bogeyman."

The childhood monster is a normal topic in your home and your parents don't mind humoring you on it every now and then.

"What kind of story did he read you?" 

"I can't tell you, otou-san! He made me promise and friends don't break promises! But it was one from my favorite book ever!"

Jesse sets his usual coffee mug down after taking a large swig. "You're right, sweetheart, friends don't break promises. But you're tellin' me that you're not scared of the boogeyman?"

"Nope! Papa, he's my friend. Why should I be scared of my friend? He's nice to me and I like him a lot." You finish the last bit of your food and look to both of your parents. "Can I go play outside?"

"Just put your dishes away and wash your hands before you go," Hanzo says before taking a small drink of his tea. 

As you grab your dishes and leave the table, Jesse looks towards his husband and smiles at him. 

"What?" The Japanese man curiously asks.

"Oh nothin', we've just got one hell of a little fighter with a good imagination and I love 'em like crazy."


	4. Age 14: Home Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know the rules for staying home alone but when something terrible happens an old friend comes to help you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's more reaper with an older reader now. This kind of feels more emotional towards Jesse, but I have a Hanzo one coming up soon. And as always, please enjoy! Thank you for so many wonderful comments.

_Tip: Be careful of how long your child is home alone when you or your partner is a part of a secret vigilante super hero group._

Being home alone for the weekend, or even a little longer than that, isn't a new thing to you. 

With you being at a decent age and your parents completely trusting you, they confidently know that if anything is to happen while they're away on an assignment that you'd be able call uncle Genji for immediate help. And so, when a loud heavy knock suddenly comes from the front door, you follow your father's strict instructions of not answering it for anyone, only getting up off the couch to look around the closest corner to double check that the locks are still in place; of course, they are. 

You sit back down and, even though you aren't currently watching anything incredibly loud, still significantly turn down the volume of everything playing and listen carefully, exactly like your dads taught you. 

It's quiet for barely a few seconds before another set of knocks rattles at the door, sounding more urgent this time. But again, the door goes unanswered. You wait before resuming any of your previous activities and when silence rules over the house for several minutes, you finally relax and grab the remote to press play. 

But as your back touches the couch, both the front door and back door are violently kicked in off their hinges. The weak metal of the now broken locks clink and roll around on the ground as large men dressed in black swat type uniforms storm in. You jump up and leap over the coffee table to bolt into the closest room with a door, remembering the drills your parents put you through when you were younger for this exact reason. 

Each door in the house has two locks on it for this very instance and all you have to do is lock yourself in the room, escape through the window, and call uncle Genji as you hide somewhere, anywhere, down the street. With two parents in Overwatch, you've been trained by now on how to hide like an expert and flee without making a sound. But the men are so much more faster then you anticipate.

Two race after you and one successfully catches the end of your shirt, harshly tugging you backwards. Your back slams into the floor and you shriek in pain. You scramble to grab your little knife from your pants pocket, your very last defense, but barely have it in your grasp before a large boot stomps down on your hand and kicks it away.

A figure walks over and peers down at you through his dark reflective helmet. His foot presses against your chest strongly to hold you in place and then he radios in, "We've got them." There's a short pause, clearly listening to the person on the other end, and then he speaks again. "Yes. Alive."

A large gun is then pointed at you and you freeze up so tight. You've only seen, and once fired with supervision, your dad's gun; peacekeeper. But it's so much smaller than the one in your face right now and you're not embarrassed or ashamed of being so afraid.

"C'mon, kid. We're going for a little ride." 

You can't really argue, so when the one not pointing the gun grabs your arms and marches you through the house and out the door, you don't fight. But you do glare as nasty as you can at them and call them "fuckers" under your breathe.

They seem to bring you somewhere close, taking you in a car and constantly shoving your head down every time you try to look up. You aren't in the car for long, at least you don't think so. All you can really focus on is how fast your heart is beating and the blood rushing in your ears. You're nervous and incredibly scared, but also ready to fight, just like your dads. These are the bad guys they spend so much time warning you about and drilling you on. 

"No injury," one of the men suddenly says over his phone.

"No injury?" you spit, a bit of your father's southern accent only coming out the more annoyed or stressed you get. "Ya'll stepped on my hand and threw me on the ground."

"Shut up!" one snaps. He grabs the back of your neck and shoves your head between your knees. 

"Inform Reaper and send the Overwatch rats a message that we've got their adopted little runt," another says.

Once the men that kidnapped you finally reach their destination, they drag you into a large cement building full of what you now recognize as Talon insignias. They are so many more people walking around and talking to one and another; they're not quite dressed all alike but all at least have some form of dark clothing. You've imagined what such a villain base like Talon's would look like; this is nothing like what you've dreamed of.

Not as menacing, for one.

After leading you down several bare hallways, they bring you to a room with a thick steel door and all but throw you inside. Your knees scrap against the floor and you hiss in pain as you scrabble over to the far corner. 

"Make any noise and your parents will have to buy a new kid," the man threatens before slamming the door and loudly kicking the lock into place. 

////

Upon receiving orders that a new prisoner had been taken in and needs to be interrogated, Reaper swiftly arrives to the much smaller side base, curiously noting just how close it is to your home and never letting the thought get too far away from him.

He meets up with the men who performed the assignment and they lead him to the main surveillance room.

"We found information on two Overwatch agents awhile ago and they, the little shit in the cell, has been deemed a bargaining tool to be used against the organization." The nameless man hands Reaper a smile file that explains the basic of the mission and any side info as per usual. "We'd been watched the house for a good month before taking the kid."

"Kid?"

When Reaper opens the file he's utterly blank for a moment.

A few pictures of you, obviously taken without knowledge or consent, greets him first thing. And when he looks to the screens on the wall that watch the cells, he sees you huddled in the corner in one of them. Within seconds, anger flows through his dead veins and he rips the folder in his hands to shreds with his claws.

"Sir-"

He spares no words as he slaughters the men assigned to capture you. No one in Talon is suppose to know about you but him and those who do will die to keep the secret. 

In a cloud of black smoke, he goes to your cell and kicks it open in annoyance. 

He walks in and you jump out from his right with swinging fists. But he's so much faster than you and just counters each hit before shoving you away as delicately as possible. Reaper completely understands your attack; his late nights visits as the boogeyman had to come to an end sooner or later as you got older and smarter. It's been years since he's actually been able to see you face to face. You don't recognize him at all, don't know yet that he doesn't mean you any harm, but that's okay.

"Who are ya!?" That slight accent makes him smile under his mask. "I came along nicely! Don't you think about touchin' me! My dads are gonna to come!"

The wraith can't help but chuckle at the fact that you're so much like his ex-pupil.

"Just an old friend, I promise," he rasps. 

"Old friend? I don't think I've got any friends like you!"

Looking hard at his white mask, something really starts to feel oddly familiar about him; something along the lines of black smoke and cold hugs but you really can't remember who this guy is. He must be talking shit.

"Keep your mouth shut now." He grabs your upper arms. "It's time to go home. They won't bother you anymore."

Thick black smokes starts to quickly surround you and a horrible wave of dizziness sickly washes over. 

"What the hell!" You struggle against his hold but, of-fucking-course, he's much stronger than you. Plus, those metal claws make it even more difficult to move away.

The world fades away and the next thing you know, you're back home. You feel like you're going to throw up but somehow manage to keep it down. Your head really hurts too. 

What happened!? Who the hell is his dude!?

Reaper holds you still at arms length.

"You'll be oka-"

"Let them go!" 

You're let go suddenly and your ass hits the ground. Uncle Genji rushes in like wind and draws his blade, striking Reaper with such force that it knocks him back into the wall and severely cracks the plaster. This will actually work in Reaper's favor for now. Everything looks like he's the one who broke in and was just about to kidnap you. So he'll just let the cyborg think exactly that and let him take you somewhere safer. 

You wobble to your feet and Genji is quick to stand in front of you. 

"I will not let you take them!" The younger Shimada will do anything to protect you, especially from Reaper and his trio.

"Bye bye," Reaper laughs and disappears in another huff of black smoke. 

Genji doesn't bother going after the ghost. He needs much too worried about you. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? We must go before he brings back up! Grab a bag and some necessities."

"Uh, I've...got a lot of questions right now. But...how did you know I was in trouble? I didn't get to call you," you ask. "And who was that!? What just happened!?"

"I received a message for the security system. And when you didn't answer your phone, I came as fast as I could," he sighs. "And it is much better to ask your fathers that; they no doubt received the same message and will be back soon to see you."

"Security system? I didn't know we had one!" You rush into the beat up living room and pick up your phone from the floor to see the messages your uncle is talking about.

"My dear, there is still a lot you don't know. Please, grab your bag and let's go."


	5. Age 15: Competitions and Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You lose an important competition and it takes a hard toll on you. But there's another issue at hand that's bugging you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A more Hanzo-centric fic. Enjoy! Sorry for any mistakes. I'm only able to write on my phone.

_Tip: Teach your child that winning isn't everything and that they don't always have to meet expectations._

"[Name], please! What's wrong!?" 

"My little fighter, what is it!?" 

You don't listen to either of them and storm away down the hall to your room, slamming the door shut behind you and throwing your bow to the ground in anger. There are hot tears clouding your vision as you stare down at the dull bronze third place metal in your hand. 

Your archery championship competition was today and you'd barely gotten third place. You thought you were good enough; you'd practice until your body was sore everyday. But all those other kids were so much better than you. How embarrassing! You're the child of a legendary and highly skilled archer. Third place is a complete disgrace! You drop the metal to the ground and stomp on it several times with all of your might, smashing it into chunks.

It wasn't just your dads there watching you lose, oh no, uncle Genji attended as well. He had to watch you fail too. And even though you only managed to get third place, they still cheered as if you'd gotten first. It was nice but c'mon, it's third place. It means practically nothing. Who the hell remembers third place?? 

With so many more damn thoughts like that in your head, you face-plant onto your bed with your sweaty uniform still on and sob hard. You cry until your head starts to hurt and your eyes are red and puffy. 

Eventually, you slump off the bed and change into a set of more comfortable clothes. You're just sad and there's no other way to put it. You still have a pile of homework sitting on your desk that needs to be finished; you were going to do it after the competition, but all the energy and motivation to do so is long gone.

You just plop back down on your bed and as you do so, soft knocks come from your door before opening to show Hanzo on the other side. He wears an obvious worried expression as he speaks. 

"May I come in?" he asks.

You loosely cross your arms and shrug, not wanting to look up to him. He shuts the door behind him and comes to sit on the edge of the bed near you. 

In Japanese with a soft voice, he says, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Is your clipped answer. 

"Are you sure? The way you came home today tells me a very different story and I only want to help. Please, I hope you'll confide in me." He looks around your room for a moment. "Our conversation will not leave this room, I promise."

You sigh and drop your shoulders. "I'm just...not happy that I got third, that's all. I worked really hard and practiced everyday, but..."

"I know, I remember those days clearly. I'm proud of your dedication."

You stop him on that thought. "But it wasn't good enough! Those other kids were so much better than me."

"You did so well, regardless." He spots the stepped on bronze pieces a little ways away and sighs through his nose. "Your metal shows how far your hard work has taken you and that's something to be proud of." His tone is calm as he speaks, no disappointment or pity anywhere near. "Many others had to walk away without such an honor, but not you."

"Yeah...I guess you're right," you mumble softly. But you continue to keep your arms crossed and still can't meet his gaze.

Hanzo can see that something is still bothering you, something bigger than just the metal. So, he unfurls your arms and holds your hands in his to try and get you to look at him. 

"There's something else, isn't there? I won't judge, you know that."

Your parents are too damn caring for their own good and you really want to be angry at him for that, but you just can't. He's trying to make you feel better and you've ALWAYS been able to tell them everything without fear. This shouldn't be any different, right?

For some reason, your throats feels a little tight as you speak. "It's just that...I can't live up to how good you are. You're such a great archer and I only barely got third place! It was embarrassing seeing those other kids do so much better than me even though I practiced so fucking hard!"

"Language," he snips before returning to his soft expression. "And no one said you had to be as good of an archer as I am. I hope you know that I never expected that from you."

"Yeah, I know that you and dad didn't, but literally everyone else did!" Your throat gets tighter as warm familiar tears cloud your vision again. "I mean, there's you and then there's dad who was picked up by blackwatch at seventeen for his aim and deadeye. But I'm turning sixteen soon and have nothing to show for it, no skills, no amazing abilities! Just a stupid third place bronze metal. I shouldn't have taken any breaks, like you guys told me to! I should've kept practicing until my hands bled and my feet couldn't keep me up anymore!" 

Tears roll down your cheeks and you start to hiccup as a new wave of crying sets in; it feels like there's a ball suck in your throat. "I want to be good enough for you and that metal just proves I'm not. I can't live up to what you and dad are!"

Hanzo cups your cheeks faster than lightening and makes you look him in the eye. There's a lot of emotion in his gaze and, even though your crying, it feels like everything will be okay soon enough because your dad is here.

"You're ranking and skill placement will never change my love for you. It will never change what I think of you in a negative way." He turns so serious so quick and you can't look away. "I have been exactly where you are now, felt what you have, and I have pushed myself beyond those borders, but not because I wanted to. My hands have bled and my feet have given out on me, but it was never enough for my father...for your grandfather." 

He takes a shaky breathe. "I told myself when you came into my life that I would never treat you the way my father treated me. I will never let you go through what I did with the clan." He lets go of you and pulls you into a hug, one of which you happily return. "If you only focus on one aspect of life, you'll miss the rest as it goes by. Breaks from your training are so important.

My only expectation for you to be happy and enjoy life. Please, only continue to push yourself further if it betters you as a person, not to please others for their approval. You don't ever have to be like me or your father because you're already something so much more amazing than both of us." 

The tears that roll down your face now are for a different reason. You cry once again. But this time, your father holds you close and softly rubs your back as he assures you that everything will be okay in life. He lets you cry out what you're feeling until your content. And when the tears finally do end, he still holds you. 

"I'll keep practicing but only because I want to." Your voice is quiet and raspy. "I'll make proud."

"You already have." He smiles at you and then gets up, going over and collecting the pieces of your trashed award. "I still don't think you should throw this away; we can fix it. But if you really want to there's nothing wrong with that."

You sniff and wipe your cheeks. "No, I'll keep it. No point in throwing it away just yet."

He smiles. "I think that's a good idea. Now, why don't you come out and have dinner with us, your father made your favorite. We can even watch a movie together afterwards, your pick."

A small grin from you finally breaks through and it makes Hanzo so very happy. "Okay, that sounds good."


	6. Age 11: Shooting Range

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your dad Jesse takes you to a shooting range for your first time, but it doesn't go quite as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picture Jesse driving a typical red truck, so leave me alone. But like, what would Hanzo drive? I dunno, I can't think of anything that fits. Wouldn't it be a cute headcanon of Hanzo couldn't drive!? Oh my god.
> 
> Suggested by: cascadedEquilibrium.

_Tip: you can bond with your child in many different ways. But maybe not everyone should take their kids shooting._

You're absolutely vibrating with excitement during the entire car ride to the shooting range. It'll be your very first time ever shooting a gun and it's going to be so freaking cool. You'll get to brag to all the kids at school tomorrow cause not everyone your age has cool hero parents that lets them do such awesome things!

Jesse can't help but smile and share in your excitement as he watches you impatiently in the front seat. Just like him, you love the outdoors and he adores the look on your face as the city fades into fields and forests. Camping and fishing is a regular activity for you two and he can't wait for this to be another one, at least he hopes.

The truck comes to a park and you race out of the car, to which Jesse has to quickly call out to you, "just wait a minute, my little fighter!"

You hop from foot to foot, eagerly waiting for your papa to catch up. Your dad looks so cool as he straps his holster to his waist, just like a cowboy from the movies, dressed in a plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves and a worn hat. He grabs one more thing from the back before taking your hand and leading you to the target area. 

Jesse has you stand far across from a plain colored bullseye pattern propped up a against large sand bag. He crouches down to one knee and holds out a black pistol to you. You can't help but think of how much smaller it is compared to his legendary peacekeeper. But before you take ahold of the weapon, he looks you in the eye and firmly says, "Like I told ya before, the first time ya shoot, it's gonna hurt and it's gonna hurt a lot. Yer hands are gonna sting and it'll probably clip your skin. The recoil ain't gonna be pretty. So are ya sure ya still wanna shoot?"

You nod only once and then carefully take the weapon from him. Taking a deep breathe, you plant your feet firmly on the ground and raise your arms. 

"Okay, now don't lock your elbows," he softly instructs, still crouched down to your height but now standing behind you. "Good! Now don't ever put your finger on the trigger until you know absolutely that you want to fire, just rest it on the side. Good!"

Your heart is pounding but it feels okay. You take one more deep breathe and then pull the trigger. Within the next few seconds, pains suddenly erupts from your hand, arm, and worse of all, your nose. The gun flys out of your hands and your father catches you before your ass can completely hit the ground. 

"Sweet pea! Christ, are you okay!?"

The skin between your pointer finger and thumb of your dominate hand is bleeding. That same arm is tingling with warmth and your nose is a like a waterfall of blood. Tears well up in your eyes but that understandable right now.

Your legs wobble a bit as you stand back up on your own, mumbling, "my nose hurts, a lot...that was awesome!"

Your try to reach for the gun to shoot one more time, but your dad stops you with a chuckle, "whoa there! Let me see that nose real quick." 

Jesse careful grabs your nose to inspect it, softly pushing from side to side, looking for any breaks or serious damage. Thankfully, it's not broken, but you're definitely going to be bruised up. Hell, you're already blue and purple. "Well, it doesn't look like your nose is broken but it ain't gonna feel nice for awhile." Gazing at the ground for a second, Jesse spot a little white tooth laying in the dirt. And when you grin at him, he sees the empty spot on the upper right of your smile. "Oh, my little star, I'm sorry. I shoulda held the gun with ya. Are you really okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanna try shooting again. Can we?"

Jesse feels a mix of emotion at the blood on your little face. He's proud that you handled such an a experience so strongly; but, on the other hand, blood shouldn't be on his sweet child's face at all! So he just sighs through his nose and hands the handgun back over to you.

You take your stance once again and he picks up your lost tooth, guiltily tucking it away in his shirt pocket. This time, when you fire the gun, everything is different. You don't hit the target, not by a long shot, but you don't fall on your ass and handle the kickback far better. Your hands still sting and shake a bit after each shot, but at least you can manage to keep your grip on it now.

"Dad! Shoot with me!" you say.

"Ya really want your old man to shoot with'cha?!"

"Yeah! It'll be so cool! C'mon, papa!" 

He unholsters peacekeeper and aims for his own target. The stars in your eyes as you watch him fire almost completely mess up his shot, but he manages to save it. You and your father spend a good hour and a half shooting at targets and cheering each other on. He helps with your aim and soon enough you're able to hit a little more than half of your targets.

And on the ride home, you quickly fall asleep in the front seat with a smile. 

"Sweet pea, we're home. Your dad made dinner," Jesse softly wakes you up once he finally pulls up into the driveway.

You snap awake at the mention of food, hastily unbuckling yourself from the seat and race down the walkway to the front door.

"Otou-san! We're home! It was so much fun!!" you announce as you burst through the door.

"That's wonderful, my little dragon!!" Hanzo replies from the kitchen. The scent of something great comes from said room and you follow it. "What was your favorite part?" 

"Getting to shoot with dad! And watching him use peacekeeper."

You round the corner and Hanzo drops the utensil in his hand. The sight of your bruised up face and missing tooth make his heart stop for just a second.

"Jesse, my love."

"Er...yes, darlin'?"

"Why is my child bruised up and missing a tooth?"

Jesse scratches his back of his head nervously. "There was a slight accident, but they're nose isn't broken and I got their tooth right here." 

But before Hanzo can reprimand his husband, Jesse wraps his arms around the Japanese man's waist and buries his face into the junction of the archer's neck and shoulder. The cowboy presses a few kisses to his husband's skin before letting out a happy sigh.

Hanzo melts into Jesse's hold and runs his fingers through his cowboy's hair. "What is it, Jesse."

"You shoulda seen the look in their eye when we're shooting together. Literal god damn stars and my heart is still flying."

It's a peaceful moment for the two of them to just hold each other there in the hallway.

"I love 'em so much. One of the great decisions of my life," McCree chuckles. "Well, besides marryin' you."

"Dads! Is dinner done yet!? I'm super hungry!!"

Both men softly laugh in response.


End file.
